Page 96 of Forbidden

My stomach clenches at the unspoken promise that hangs between them, the bitter taste of jealousy flooding my mouth.

“Fine.” Aldo sighs, then leans forward, lowering his voice to just above a whisper, but all it does is make the words sound sexier. “Ai piccoli cavalli piace mangiare piccole mele quando si arrampicano su ripide colline.”

Masters looks at me across the table and I swallow, wondering if his dick is as hard as mine is right now. Aldo speaking Italian. New kink officially unlocked.

“Okay. Next one,” Masters says, and I’m pleased to hear his voice a little strained.

“Voglio leccare, succhiare e stuzzicare ogni parte del tuo corpo finché non tremi e urli il mio nome.”

I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable as my dick tries to break out of my jeans like there’s a prison riot and it thinks there’s a chance of escape. “Honestly, they both sounded like complete filth to me.”

I glance over at Masters, but he’s just staring at Aldo like one of those cartoon characters seeing a steak instead of their friend.

“The second one was the dirty one,” Joy says, picking up her fork and spearing a piece of pasta.

Aldo grins at her and I frown. “How do you know?”

“Because he said ‘mio nome’,” she explains. “I’m assuming it’s similar to Spanish, which means he said, ‘my name’.”

I raise my eyebrows. “That simple, huh?”

“What did you say?” Masters asks.

Aldo just grins at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

I chuckle, and the smile that Aldo turns my way twists like a knife in my chest. We’ve never discussed what that kiss on the beach was. A moment of weakness on both our parts. Especially as he already has two people in his life. It’s almost like the universe is taunting me on purpose.

I’ve long since accepted that I’m destined to spend my life alone, and I was fine with that. Being alone means no disappointment. No pressure. I can be an asshole and not have to worry about it. You can’t let people down if no one cares about you.

But now, I’m sitting at a table with three people who make me want more. Not one person. But three. Even fucking Masters. Not that I’d ever tell him that. I like him in the same way I like the pain of pulling off a scab just before it’s ready.

Ever since that morning in my office, when he saw me weaker than anyone has in my entire life, it’s like my bullshit just rolls right off him. Seeing me like that seems to have muted my ability to piss him off. I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

It's laughable. That I’m deserving of no one but craving three. A new level of emotional self-harm.

“I want to have a word with the chef,” Aldo says, wiping his mouth with his napkin and pushing back his chair. “Shall I order dessert to go?”

My heart sinks, even as I plaster a smile on my face. The thought of going back home to my house to drink myself to sleep while these three fuck themselves into oblivion is just plain awful.

“Sounds good,” Masters says.

Aldo nods and heads toward the front of house.

“You’re coming back to Lane’s, right?” Joy asks, her fingers stroking the charms hanging from her necklace.

My eyebrows raise. “Surely you don’t want me there.”

Masters rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a dick. Come eat dessert with us.”

“Please?” Joy asks. “It can be my birthday present.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, if you’re going to playthatcard, you’re not leaving me with much choice.”

She grins, and I try and fail to hold back my own smile.

* * *

“You have to tell us,” I say, pointing at Aldo with my spoon. “What did you say?”

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